Forever Yours
by ChioneFlame
Summary: Rose, 29, is a lost young lady who has been alone in her life since her mother abandoned her at the age of 14. She has never known her father. But what adventures will ensue when she meets the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow?
1. Not A Whore

CHAPTER ONE

As I sat in the corner of the small crowded tavern and took an occasional drink of rum I watched the things going on around me. I wondered when my life would ever get remotely interesting. I watched the drunken men chasing the whores around the tables. I pity whatever fool takes me for a whore or a _silly little girl_. I am _not_ silly, or a girl. I am a woman, nineteen, in fact. While somewhat short and resembling a girl because of said height, I am nothing of the sort.

Just as I was thinking about this some stupid excuse for a man strode (more swaggered actually) toward my table. Before a word passed his nasty lips I knew his intentions. Anybody would know instantly from the gratuitous expression on his worn, drunken face. "'Ello, Poppet" he slurred, the evident smell of too much drink on his breath.

"No, thanks so much" I replied, making certain to keep my tone steady and dismissive.

"Maybe you don't know who I am." He said, somewhat annoyed and probably more anxious than before. "My name is Captain Farling. Now I ask again: Care for a drink, poppet?"

Maybe _you_ don't know who _I_ am." I responded, not even attempting to hide the defiant tone that was building in my voice as I got calmly up from the table (his nasty arm still around my back) and pointed my pistol between his eyes. "My name is Rose Sparrow. Still fancy a drink, _poppet_?"

"No, no... miss Sparrow. Sorry to have bothered you." He stammered as he hurriedly got up and took his arm from around me, anxious to get out of my shooting range, pushing through other drunkards to the tavern's exit.

"Thanks very much" I said quietly, more to myself than him, as I picked up the ratty old bag he had left. It was of no special material. But that was of little concern to me. Its _contents_ were my concern. "Ahhh..." I said contently, as I extracted twenty shillings from the little purse. "Wonder what he planned to buy." I said mockingly as I threw the now empty bag aside and placed the money into my own purse. Just then, I thought of what he could possibly have wanted for _that much_. It then occurred to me. He thought I was a whore. He had to pay for that mistake. Dearly. I utterly detested when men took me as a whore just because I wasn't ugly and I was in a tavern. I calmly got up from the table and moved toward the exit, having to push aside many approaching men before they could even say hello. I had something to do and wanted no distractions. Just as I was about to leave, the kindly old gentleman who ran the tavern man yelled over the crowd "Rose! You forgot to pay again!"

"Oh. Sorry, Mr. Bridge!" I yelled across the noisy bar and tossed him two shillings for the rum.

"Another one to chase?"

"Yes! See you tomorrow!" I yelled, knowing that unless by some miracle I found my father in the next 24 hours I would, in fact, be back here drinking as I watched everyone else live their life.

Outside the tavern the air was cold and moisture still hung heavily from the earlier storm. Black clouds still loomed overhead, but it was clearing up and the light was sufficient without a torch to find and probably hurt that brainless old dog. As I walked along the dirty side street rain left over from the storm spattered on the already wet road and my head, which, I must say, was quite refreshing, since I had not had a decent shower for at least three days.

When I finally got all the way to the docks and still saw no sign of the old man I decided to go home and sleep for the night. Just before I turned around to leave the beautiful sight of the ocean something caught my eye. A ship was coming in. An unusually dark ship, in fact, the ship was still about a hundred metres or so off, but from where I was standing it appeared to have black sails. I had heard something about a ship with black sails, as I recalled. It was called the _Black Pearl_. Yes, the black pearl, and its Captain had just recently died in a fight with what was rumored to be the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas. Perhaps I could become a pirate. I could, if I really wanted to. Truly. I had the language of a pirate, the drinking habits, the obsession with any kind of treasure, and I had heard from listening to a few bar conversations that my father had been a pirate. How composed or intelligent he was, I had no idea. But I suppose the greatest pirate ever to sail would have at least heard of my father at one time or another. Surely he must have. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by forthcoming footsteps from somewhere close behind me. Probably that old man coming back for more humiliation (well, he was not really a man, but more of a fish, or maybe he was a eunuch. I really didn't know or care). When I felt the footsteps ever so slightly vibrating the ground beneath my bare feet (I never wear shoes of any kind. They confine my feet. And if there's one thing I do not need it will be confinement. I need to be free.) I pulled out my pistol (With no shots left, but only I knew that.) and aimed straight at the head of this nameless shadow.


	2. Jack

CHAPTER ONE

As I sat in the corner of the small crowded tavern and took an occasional drink of rum I watched the things going on around me. I wondered when my life would ever get remotely interesting. I watched the drunken men chasing the whores around the tables. I pity whatever fool takes me for a whore or a _silly little girl_. I am _not_ silly, or a girl. I am a woman, nineteen, in fact. While somewhat short and resembling a girl because of said height, I am nothing of the sort.

Just as I was thinking about this some stupid excuse for a man strode (more swaggered actually) toward my table. Before a word passed his nasty lips I knew his intentions. Anybody would know instantly from the gratuitous expression on his worn, drunken face. "'Ello, Poppet" he slurred, the evident smell of too much drink on his breath.

"No, thanks so much" I replied, making certain to keep my tone steady and dismissive.

"Maybe you don't know who I am." He said, somewhat annoyed and probably more anxious than before. "My name is Captain Farling. Now I ask again: Care for a drink, poppet?"

Maybe _you_ don't know who _I_ am." I responded, not even attempting to hide the defiant tone that was building in my voice as I got calmly up from the table (his nasty arm still around my back) and pointed my pistol between his eyes. "My name is Rose Sparrow. Still fancy a drink, _poppet_?"

"No, no... miss Sparrow. Sorry to have bothered you." He stammered as he hurriedly got up and took his arm from around me, anxious to get out of my shooting range, pushing through other drunkards to the tavern's exit.

"Thanks very much" I said quietly, more to myself than him, as I picked up the ratty old bag he had left. It was of no special material. But that was of little concern to me. Its _contents_ were my concern. "Ahhh..." I said contently, as I extracted twenty shillings from the little purse. "Wonder what he planned to buy." I said mockingly as I threw the now empty bag aside and placed the money into my own purse. Just then, I thought of what he could possibly have wanted for _that much_. It then occurred to me. He thought I was a whore. He had to pay for that mistake. Dearly. I utterly detested when men took me as a whore just because I wasn't ugly and I was in a tavern. I calmly got up from the table and moved toward the exit, having to push aside many approaching men before they could even say hello. I had something to do and wanted no distractions. Just as I was about to leave, the kindly old gentleman who ran the tavern man yelled over the crowd "Rose! You forgot to pay again!"

"Oh. Sorry, Mr. Bridge!" I yelled across the noisy bar and tossed him two shillings for the rum.

"Another one to chase?"

"Yes! See you tomorrow!" I yelled, knowing that unless by some miracle I found my father in the next 24 hours I would, in fact, be back here drinking as I watched everyone else live their life.

Outside the tavern the air was cold and moisture still hung heavily from the earlier storm. Black clouds still loomed overhead, but it was clearing up and the light was sufficient without a torch to find and probably hurt that brainless old dog. As I walked along the dirty side street rain left over from the storm spattered on the already wet road and my head, which, I must say, was quite refreshing, since I had not had a decent shower for at least three days.

When I finally got all the way to the docks and still saw no sign of the old man I decided to go home and sleep for the night. Just before I turned around to leave the beautiful sight of the ocean something caught my eye. A ship was coming in. An unusually dark ship, in fact, the ship was still about a hundred metres or so off, but from where I was standing it appeared to have black sails. I had heard something about a ship with black sails, as I recalled. It was called the _Black Pearl_. Yes, the black pearl, and its Captain had just recently died in a fight with what was rumored to be the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas. Perhaps I could become a pirate. I could, if I really wanted to. Truly. I had the language of a pirate, the drinking habits, the obsession with any kind of treasure, and I had heard from listening to a few bar conversations that my father had been a pirate. How composed or intelligent he was, I had no idea. But I suppose the greatest pirate ever to sail would have at least heard of my father at one time or another. Surely he must have. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by forthcoming footsteps from somewhere close behind me. Probably that old man coming back for more humiliation (well, he was not really a man, but more of a fish, or maybe he was a eunuch. I really didn't know or care). When I felt the footsteps ever so slightly vibrating the ground beneath my bare feet (I never wear shoes of any kind. They confine my feet. And if there's one thing I do not need it will be confinement. I need to be free.) I pulled out my pistol (With no shots left, but only I knew that.) and aimed straight at the head of this nameless shadow.

CHAPTER TWO

"Stop walking or I'll shoot you," I said forebodingly.

"Rose, shut up with that _shoot you_ nonsense. I know you have no shots in that pistol." It was my friend and longtime housemate Annaclara.

"Annaclara, is that you? Well what do you mean by coming up behind me like that? I could've shot you." I called to her.

"Except your gun has no bullets," she called sardonically. She had a point. When she ran closer I stood waiting to greet her but when she ran past me I stood there, still facing the other direction, until I contemplated that she was no longer in front of me. Then I spun around and called to her.

"Annaclara..." no answer, she was still running toward the water, "Annaclara, what the bloody hell are you doing?" I called, still a bit confused.

"I'm meeting my sister!" She finally called back. I hadn't ever heard of a sister. I ran to catch up. When she finally stopped she was about half a meter from the end of the dock. I finally caught up to her and stopped just before falling into the water.

"You have... a sister?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

"Yes, Annamaria. She is to stop here tonight. LOOK! There's her ship now!"

"HER ship?"

"No, she's part of the crew. It's the fastest ship in the Spanish main."

"And the name of the ship is what?"

"The Black Pearl."

"The... the Black... Reeeeally?" I had heard about a black pearl. It was indeed the fastest ship in the Caribbean. It was said to be captained by the best pirate in the Caribbean. He was said to have vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company and sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot. I didn't know his name, but I would soon. The massive ship was coming closer. I could see it now. Its sails were black as the night. There was a woman hanging off the front of the ship waving madly. Since all I could see was her silhouette, I assumed she was the now infamous Annamaria.

"Annie!" Annaclara called from her perch on the dock.

When the ship tied up Annamaria was the first to come off, followed by the motliest crew I had ever seen, followed by two men that didn't look so dilapidated: one I recognized as a man named Gibbs, and a second, well, I didn't know his name, but he seemed oddly familiar, almost as if I had seen him somewhere, somewhere distant.

"Annaclara" I said, still a bit distracted, "do you know who that is?

"Oh, no, let me ask Annie. ANNIE!" Annaclara called, bearing a strange vocal resemblance to her sister.

"What do ye want?" 'Annie' said hastily, "I have te help unload."

"That man, the tall one walking swaggeredly. Who is he?"

"Him?" Oh, that's the captain.

"Oh. So... the captain is a... drunk?"

"Yes, now, if you two will excuse me, I have to go unload while you stand there looking at a real crew."

"Oh, she's a bitter one!" Annaclara said teasingly to Annamaria. When Annamaria walked away Annaclara and I stood there for a second looking at the captain. I wondered who he was. I certainly recognized him, yet I could not place the face. _Oh, well, time to go to bed. Best worry about it in the morning_, I thought.

"Let's follow 'em!" Said Annaclara enthusiastically. I was not so inclined. What if there were nasty old men like the one from the bar in that crew? Oh well, I had incredible swordsman skills, and Annie was already about fifteen metres ahead of me by then, so I decided it would be in my best interest to follow, so I did.

CHAPTER THREE

Once I caught up with Annaclara, her sister, Mr. Gibbs, and the Captain, we were already in the bar I had been in previously. We sat down at a table with Annamaria and the two other men. He sat directly across from me, with Gibbs at his right and Annamaria at his left. Annaclara sat at my right.

"What'll it be for ye?" the waitress said more to the captain than to any of us, which I could understand, since he was quite fit. But I, for some reason, didn't feel that same connection. My connection felt somehow different.

"I'll have rum, the most you can supply, Gibbs will have the same, Annamaria will probably have rum, and these fine young ladies will have..." he said, gesturing toward us.

"Rum." We said in unison, this was our favorite bar. We were regulars here.

"Rum, eh?" Said the captain somewhat flirtatiously, which, for some odd reason unbeknownst to me, mad me a bit uncomfortable, "I like a girl who can drink."

"So, captain," I said after our third round of drinks had arrived and the silence had finally gotten to me, "What is your name?"

"Jack." He said somewhat drunkenly. "Jack Sparrow."

"Jack Sparrow?" I asked, sure I had heard him wrong.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" he said, as if he had had to remind lots of people of his status.

"You?" I said, more to myself, but aloud nonetheless.

"Me, me?...me...me what, love?" He asked me in a somewhat anticipating tone.

"Captain," I said, preparing to introduce myself, since I could find no other way to tell this man that he was most likely my father, "allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rose Sparrow." I said calmly, near to fainting from the mixture of drink and emotion.

Jack spit choked on his rum. When he had recovered himself he said, "Excuse me," and abruptly got up from his seat and rushed out of the bar.

"Rose Sparrow?" Annamaria said quizzically, "Not another wife, I hope."

"No," I said, still shocked, "I... I think I may be his daughter."

The table fell silent. I decided the only thing to do would be to see if Sparrow was just a common name, though I doubted it. I pushed past people to the exit and went outside to find Jack Sparrow.

When I came upon him he was muttering to himself. All I could make out of it was "No..." and "Cant be true...Left ...So long ago..." I assumed it was about me.

"Captain?" I said finally, "Do you know something I don't?" He looked as though he didn't ex[pect me to be there. He turned to face me abruptly.

"No, why would you say that, love?" he said coolly.

"Because at the mention of my name you ran out of the bar." I looked him directly in his coal-lined eyes. "What do you know?" I begged.

"Well, love, you see, the thing is... oh, bugger it. See, you are my... I happen to be, erm..."

"Are you my father?!?" I asked enthusiastically, hoping that it might be true.

"Well, to be frank with ye, lass, yes, I am." He said, clearly not as happy as me. I really couldn't think of anything to say. After all, he had abandoned my mother and I when I was only a young child, or so mother said. Naturally, I said the first thing that popped into my head; unfortunately, it was not the brightest thing that I could've said.

"You look like you're about to throw up."

No reply. Wonderful. I had upset my father on our very first meeting, sure to be our last, but not if I could help it. I had to say something, but not what I was thinking.

"Are you angry?" Yes, quite right. Very neutral question. Can't go wrong with that type of question. Probably.

"I need more rum," he said, swaggering back toward the bar.

"No!" I shouted. He wheeled around, seemingly surprised that that amount of sound could come from such a small person.

"What do ye want, love?" He asked, suddenly looking more tired than he had at any other time that night. "Yes, I am yer father, all right? But that is all. I am nothing more than a stranger to ye. I am leaving tomorrow morning and it will be as if we had never laid eyes on each other."

"So that's it, then?" I asked, trying desperately to keep back the tears that were overflowing in the rims of my eyes, "that's the secret... _grandeur_ that I conjured up to be my father. He runs from his daughter, only to remember her for the rest of his life even though he tries not to?!" I was shouting by now, my face and hair soaked with rain and tears, now within an inch of his face, "You... _are_ my father! Whether _you_ want to be aware of that or not is _your_ choice, mate, _not_ mine!" And with that, I slapped him hard across the face, putting all the years of hurt and wonder and pain into my strength as I did. After that I ran away, away from the noise of the tavern, away from the pain, away from the father I had wished for all of my life.

CHAPTER FOUR

As I sat on the beach, the water lapping around my bare toes, I thought of my life thus far. Born, abandoned at fourteen with no information other than my name, the fact that my father had abandoned us, and that she loved me, but she had to go. I could not think of her name, but I did not want to call her mother, for she was not. She was simply the other stranger. She was 'she'. There was no other way to express it.

What was this love word? According to some, it was the single greatest feeling one could ever experience. I had never loved, ever. Not platonically, nor any other way. I had thought in my younger, more naïve years that I would surely love my father when I met him. How we would sail the high seas together. True, my actual father was a captain, rumored to be the best, but he seemingly had no time for me and I wanted so desperately to know what love for a parent felt like. I had felt some semblance of sisterly love, I suppose, but Annaclara was not even my blood sister, so I supposed that that kind of love did not account for much.

Whilst thinking of all this, my mind drifted to somewhere far away. Somewhere where I could clearly not hear any sounds from where my body sat. Otherwise, I would have heard the approaching footsteps behind me. When I finally came back to reality and heard them, they were no more than a few meters off, giving me just enough time to reach for my pistol.

"Who's there?" I called toward the slowly approaching shadow, which, coming into the moonlight, looked too tall for me to take on alone, so I slowly took out my pistol (with no shots), braced myself, and hoped whoever this was was afraid of pistols. Even though it had no shots. Oh, well, at least I had _met_ my father. "What do you want?" I called toward the ever faster forthcoming shadow, "ANSWER ME, GODDAMNIT!" I screamed, a little louder than I had intended.

"Easy, love," called a familiar voice, "No one is here to trouble you, so you can put that pistol away." It was _Him_ again. My heart was glad that he cared enough to come find me, but I dare not show him this.

"What do you want?" I said sarcastically when he sat down next to me, "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me." In reality, I wanted to sit with my father on that beach forever. But pride is a nasty thing that is quite difficult to get rid of. However, I tried and it nearly worked. "But... if you want to stay... you can."

"Well, that's very generous of you, love." He said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I think I will, then."

We sat there on that beach for little more than an hour talking about everything. The conversation began as one about why he abandoned she and I, and it ended with his ship and how he acquired it. Then suddenly I was struck with an idea.

"Father?" I said, savoring the word, it felt so good to finally use that name, "If you're the captain of your ship, and I'm your daughter, well, could I, that is," I hesitated, not knowing how to phrase the question.

"You were wondering if you could come along and live aboard with me and me' crew," he said, as if he could read my mind.

"Yes!" I cried, "Oh, would you? I can be a pirate I know I can! Please, oh, please let me go with you!"

"The thing is, love," he said carefully, "you might not be able to handle the life of a pirate.

"Sure I could," I protested, "You exhort, you pilfer, you filch and sack, maraud, embezzle, you kidnap and ravage, don't give a hoot, and really bad eggs, and all of that sort, yo ho, I could do any of that as easily as any of your motley crew!" I cried, hoping that might sway his answer.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, "but I just can't take you." He stood up again and began to walk away.

"But you're jack Sparrow," I called as I got up to follow him, "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company, you sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot, so tell me again, why you can not take me aboard?" I was an inch from his face now, standing directly in front of him so as to block his path.

"I can't... I can't because I can't take care of a daughter, all right?" He said, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Father, I am nineteen years old now," I pointed out, "I can take care of myself."

"Well, then, why the bloody hell do you want to come aboard with me anyway?" He sounded agitated.

"Because all my life I have wanted to finally know my father, and now I do. And he is the greatest pirate in the Spanish Main! _Why_ in the bloody hell would I NOT want to go?" I knew I had a point. He could not say no, he had no reason to.

"Rose," he began.

"Father, please," I asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"I'll tell you what, love," he said, "meet me right here tomorrow at sunrise, I shall tell you then whether or not you can come along and live with us. It is, after all, a most important decision in both our lives. So, come here tomorrow, at sunrise, ready for going in case I decide you _can_ come along, savvy?"

"Yes," I whispered, still in front of him, hardly being able to hold back my overwhelming delight, tears of joy flooding my eyes.

"Good, now that we have all that settled, I need more rum." He said, walking around me in the direction of the bar once more. I laughed and followed, for I was also badly in need of a beverage.

CHAPTER FIVE

When we entered the bar, we sat down at the table and ordered another round of rum, my treat.

"Where did you get that?" Jack said, gesturing toward the bag of money I had stolen earlier that evening.

"I stole it." I stated simply, knowing he would ask from whom.

"And who, may I ask, did you steal _twenty_ shillings from?"

"A man I met here earlier."

"And why did you steal twenty shillings from a man you met?" Jack was clearly confused.

"Because he offered me a drink."

"Well, bloody hell, take it, love! You must be daft!"

"No no, I did, but you don't understand, he thought I was a whore. So I threatened him with my pistol-"

"Which has no shots," Annaclara interjected.

"Which has no shots, yes, and when he ran away from me, I took the money he left and it is now mine, not very much, I must say, but gold is gold."

We all talked and laughed and got moderately drunk (except for Jack, of course, who was nearly falling out of his seat with sheer drunkenness), then we bid our goodnights and Jack left, accompanied by Annamaria and Mr. Gibbs. When Annaclara and I returned to our little flat, I told her all about what had taken place and what was to take place the following morning.

"So you are going to go live aboard Jack's ship and sail the seas as a pirate?"

"Yes, that is how it seems," I said.

"Well that's amazing!" Annaclara shouted.

"Yes, it is..." I said dreamily, already thinking about my first commandeering of a ship and my first raid with my father. Then what she had said hit me like a ton of brick, "What do you mean, 'that's amazing'?" I asked, slightly hurt that she was happy to see me go.

"No," Annaclara said soothingly, detecting the hurt feelings in my voice, "It's amazing because I am going as well!"

"You what?" I said, completely taken off guard by what she had just said.

"I wasn't going to tell you until tonight, but Annamaria asked me last night while you and Jack were gone.

"So... we're going together, then," I said, still somewhat dumbfounded.

"That's fantastic!" Annaclara said. After we had comprehended all of this, we went to sleep, both most likely to dream of the following morning.

I awoke, still a bit dreamy, and rushed to get the bag I had packed the previous evening. Annaclara was already waiting for me by the door of the bar and we set off together. When we arrived at the beach, Jack and Annamaria were already waiting for us. When we approached them, something seemed rather odd. They weren't smiling; they were just standing there. When I reached Jack, I asked what was wrong. He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and shot Annaclara. Everything was hazy; I could feel myself falling ...

I woke up on the floor with a start. Thank God it had only been a dream. Annaclara was standing by my side.

"You took a bit of a fall, didn't you?" She asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"Shut up." I said, "Hurry up and pack. It's time to go. We have to get there by sunrise or they'll leave without us."

Annaclara just stood there. "GO!" I shouted.

"I have everything I need, you?"

"I packed last night," I told her matter-of-factly, suddenly remembering my dream.

"Well then, I guess we're off." She replied. And we were.

When we arrived at the beach it was empty. _At least a pirate doesn't have to be at all punctual _I thought to myself. We sat down on the sand and waited.

And waited.

And after about three or so hours, two specks appeared in the distance.

"Annaclara," I shouted, awakening Annaclara, "look! There by the horizon!"

"All I see is a couple of.... PEOPLE!" She screamed, "Rose it's people! They're finally here- what should we say? What does a pirate say to a fellow pirate? Ahoy? Hello? No, that sounds too formal, what about Yo Ho? Or maybe..."

"Annaclara," I interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Shut up. They're nearly here. Why don't we just let them say something first, then we'll answer accordingly. Yes?"

"Yes. Good." She said affirmatively. By that time they were no more than three or four meters off and we stood ready to greet them. Only, as we stood there, we exchanged glances and each of us knew what was going through the other's head. These two were not Annie and Jack. They were two big, dirty, smelly men. With another quick glance I could also see that Annaclara was as confused as I was about this.

"Erm, excuse me, but... who are you?" I asked when they had come closer.

"We're 'ere to take ye to the Captain," the shorter, burly one said, "Ye must be Rose," he said looking me up and down, "and ye," he said looking at Annaclara, "Are Annaclara?"

"Yes, I am, actually... But... How did you know which was which?"

The taller, more slender one answered this time, "You," he said looking at me, "are a spittin' image of Captain Sparrow." I really didn't know whether to take that as a flattering remark or not, but providing _both_ Annaclara _and_ Annamaria were discreetly swooning about my father, I assumed it was a good thing to look like him.

And after a brief moment we left. Toward my father's ship, the ship I would live on from now hopefully until the end of my days. Just me, my father, and the sea.

CHAPTER SIX

When I stepped on to the ship I was amazed. The entire deck was absolutely fierce with life! I had never seen so many people under the command of _one_ man. My father was the captain of the single most amazing crew and ship I had ever seen. Suddenly, I noticed something I had not noticed before... The ship had black sails!! They only added to the ferocious and rugged pirate-legend that was Jack Sparrow... My father. The pirate. For the first time in nearly twelve years I felt at home.

"Ah, Rose!" I suddenly heard from behind me. I whirled around to see who's words those were. My father swayed toward me in a drunken, and albeit, somewhat feminine way. When he reached me he bent down to me and began to speak again, I could smell the rum on his breath. "How was the walk, love? Did ol' Murtogg an' Mullroy treat you well?"

"Yes, father, they treated me fine." I responded, somewhat distracted by both the smell of the sea and the desire to escape from the smell of his breath. "Now, where am I to stay, Captain?"

He took a breath as if to say something, but he just stood there with the usual confused expression on his face.

"Father?" I said after about five minutes, "Do you have anywhere for me to stay?"

"Well, to be perfectly frank with ye, no, I don'." He said regretfully.

"Alright, then," I remarked with an air of annoyance building in my voice, (I detest unprepared ness.) "What am I going to do for the voyage, eh?"

He seemed to be thinking, so I said no more. I decided this was the opportune moment for studying my father. His eyes were brown, a deep, deep brown almost mistakable for black. They were lined in kohl, which only added to the mysterious flow of his facial features. I found it mildly comical that whenever he was thinking about anything for a long period of time his mouth opened ever so slightly, though his jaws were tightly clenched, therefore bearing his teeth in a strangely animal way. I wondered if he meant it to be that way. His hair was brown, nearly black, all in dreadlocks and kept away from his face with a scrap of deep red cloth. Though some of his hair was still hanging loose from the cloth and dangling helplessly in his face. He didn't seem to mind. Entwined and looped into his messy hair were beads of assorted size, shape, and colour and a few other odds and ends, and... Was that a stick? A bone, maybe? Whatever it was, I was mesmerized by it until he spoke again, which startled you.

"Alright, love, since me crew is still down in Tortuga, the only people who know yer a lass, SO, you'll make yerself look like a lad, savvy?" This suggestion both shocked and disgusted me. Sleeping in the same room with old, disgusting, dirty, perverted men? I thought not.

"And how, pray tell, do you expect me to do that?" I asked in a plainly annoyed and disgusted tone.

"Well, you cut your hair, you wear men's clothes, you...erm... well, you do what you do. You'll be fine. I'll put ye in Annamaria's charge, she'll make you a man."

I felt sick at the thought of being a man for the rest of my life, or at least until I could learn better dirty fighting skills...

"Alright, fine, I'll do that. For how long?"

"Until I teach you to use that cutlass properly and you learn how to sleep light with a knife by you at all times, then you can sleep under the stars, in me firs' mate's quarters, or wherever you like. Savvy?"

"Meh... Er, it's savvy with me."

"Good, then I'll get the other ladies and you'll be off. ANNAMARIA!"

A head peeked over the deck to see who had jut yelled. Strangely, though, it was neither Annamaria's nor Annaclara's. It was a man's. Not dirty and disgusting like the other pirates, but clean, and somewhat attractive, or so it seemed from the distance you were standing at.

"Father, who is that?" you inquired, pointing in the strange man's direction.

"Ah," your father said, as if knowing exactly what was going through your head, "That would be Chaman,"

"Is he part of your crew, then?"

"No, picked 'im up while we were on the southern coast of India," he said blankly, "Chaman! Come 'ere, lad!"

The young boy obeyed and scampered toward where I was standing with my father.

"Hello, Chaman, My name is Rose," You say calmly, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Erm, love, Chaman learned to greet in a different way..." My father said rather earnestly, with a slight snigger in his tone.


	3. Speaking with father for the first time

CHAPTER TWO

"Stop walking or I'll shoot you," I said forebodingly.

"Rose, shut up with that _shoot you_ nonsense. I know you have no shots in that pistol." It was my friend and longtime housemate Annaclara.

"Annaclara, is that you? Well what do you mean by coming up behind me like that? I could've shot you." I called to her.

"Except your gun has no bullets," she called sardonically. She had a point. When she ran closer I stood waiting to greet her but when she ran past me I stood there, still facing the other direction, until I contemplated that she was no longer in front of me. Then I spun around and called to her.

"Annaclara..." no answer, she was still running toward the water, "Annaclara, what the bloody hell are you doing?" I called, still a bit confused.

"I'm meeting my sister!" She finally called back. I hadn't ever heard of a sister. I ran to catch up. When she finally stopped she was about half a meter from the end of the dock. I finally caught up to her and stopped just before falling into the water.

"You have... a sister?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

"Yes, Annamaria. She is to stop here tonight. LOOK! There's her ship now!"

"HER ship?"

"No, she's part of the crew. It's the fastest ship in the Spanish main."

"And the name of the ship is what?"

"The Black Pearl."

"The... the Black... Reeeeally?" I had heard about a black pearl. It was indeed the fastest ship in the Caribbean. It was said to be captained by the best pirate in the Caribbean. He was said to have vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company and sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot. I didn't know his name, but I would soon. The massive ship was coming closer. I could see it now. Its sails were black as the night. There was a woman hanging off the front of the ship waving madly. Since all I could see was her silhouette, I assumed she was the now infamous Annamaria.

"Annie!" Annaclara called from her perch on the dock.

When the ship tied up Annamaria was the first to come off, followed by the motliest crew I had ever seen, followed by two men that didn't look so dilapidated: one I recognized as a man named Gibbs, and a second, well, I didn't know his name, but he seemed oddly familiar, almost as if I had seen him somewhere, somewhere distant.

"Annaclara" I said, still a bit distracted, "do you know who that is?

"Oh, no, let me ask Annie. ANNIE!" Annaclara called, bearing a strange vocal resemblance to her sister.

"What do ye want?" 'Annie' said hastily, "I have te help unload."

"That man, the tall one walking swaggeredly. Who is he?"

"Him?" Oh, that's the captain.

"Oh. So... the captain is a... drunk?"

"Yes, now, if you two will excuse me, I have to go unload while you stand there looking at a real crew."

"Oh, she's a bitter one!" Annaclara said teasingly to Annamaria. When Annamaria walked away Annaclara and I stood there for a second looking at the captain. I wondered who he was. I certainly recognized him, yet I could not place the face. _Oh, well, time to go to bed. Best worry about it in the morning_, I thought.

"Let's follow 'em!" Said Annaclara enthusiastically. I was not so inclined. What if there were nasty old men like the one from the bar in that crew? Oh well, I had incredible swordsman skills, and Annie was already about fifteen metres ahead of me by then, so I decided it would be in my best interest to follow, so I did.


	4. Deciding

CHAPTER FOUR

As I sat on the beach, the water lapping around my bare toes, I thought of my life thus far. Born, abandoned at fourteen with no information other than my name, the fact that my father had abandoned us, and that she loved me, but she had to go. I could not think of her name, but I did not want to call her mother, for she was not. She was simply the other stranger. She was 'she'. There was no other way to express it.

What was this love word? According to some, it was the single greatest feeling one could ever experience. I had never loved, ever. Not platonically, nor any other way. I had thought in my younger, more naïve years that I would surely love my father when I met him. How we would sail the high seas together. True, my actual father was a captain, rumored to be the best, but he seemingly had no time for me and I wanted so desperately to know what love for a parent felt like. I had felt some semblance of sisterly love, I suppose, but Annaclara was not even my blood sister, so I supposed that that kind of love did not account for much.

Whilst thinking of all this, my mind drifted to somewhere far away. Somewhere where I could clearly not hear any sounds from where my body sat. Otherwise, I would have heard the approaching footsteps behind me. When I finally came back to reality and heard them, they were no more than a few meters off, giving me just enough time to reach for my pistol.

"Who's there?" I called toward the slowly approaching shadow, which, coming into the moonlight, looked too tall for me to take on alone, so I slowly took out my pistol (with no shots), braced myself, and hoped whoever this was was afraid of pistols. Even though it had no shots. Oh, well, at least I had _met_ my father. "What do you want?" I called toward the ever faster forthcoming shadow, "ANSWER ME, GODDAMNIT!" I screamed, a little louder than I had intended.

"Easy, love," called a familiar voice, "No one is here to trouble you, so you can put that pistol away." It was _Him_ again. My heart was glad that he cared enough to come find me, but I dare not show him this.

"What do you want?" I said sarcastically when he sat down next to me, "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me." In reality, I wanted to sit with my father on that beach forever. But pride is a nasty thing that is quite difficult to get rid of. However, I tried and it nearly worked. "But... if you want to stay... you can."

"Well, that's very generous of you, love." He said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I think I will, then."

We sat there on that beach for little more than an hour talking about everything. The conversation began as one about why he abandoned she and I, and it ended with his ship and how he acquired it. Then suddenly I was struck with an idea.

"Father?" I said, savoring the word, it felt so good to finally use that name, "If you're the captain of your ship, and I'm your daughter, well, could I, that is," I hesitated, not knowing how to phrase the question.

"You were wondering if you could come along and live aboard with me and me' crew," he said, as if he could read my mind.

"Yes!" I cried, "Oh, would you? I can be a pirate I know I can! Please, oh, please let me go with you!"

"The thing is, love," he said carefully, "you might not be able to handle the life of a pirate.

"Sure I could," I protested, "You exhort, you pilfer, you filch and sack, maraud, embezzle, you kidnap and ravage, don't give a hoot, and really bad eggs, and all of that sort, yo ho, I could do any of that as easily as any of your motley crew!" I cried, hoping that might sway his answer.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, "but I just can't take you." He stood up again and began to walk away.

"But you're jack Sparrow," I called as I got up to follow him, "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company, you sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot, so tell me again, why you can not take me aboard?" I was an inch from his face now, standing directly in front of him so as to block his path.

"I can't... I can't because I can't take care of a daughter, all right?" He said, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Father, I am nineteen years old now," I pointed out, "I can take care of myself."

"Well, then, why the bloody hell do you want to come aboard with me anyway?" He sounded agitated.

"Because all my life I have wanted to finally know my father, and now I do. And he is the greatest pirate in the Spanish Main! _Why_ in the bloody hell would I NOT want to go?" I knew I had a point. He could not say no, he had no reason to.

"Rose," he began.

"Father, please," I asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"I'll tell you what, love," he said, "meet me right here tomorrow at sunrise, I shall tell you then whether or not you can come along and live with us. It is, after all, a most important decision in both our lives. So, come here tomorrow, at sunrise, ready for going in case I decide you _can_ come along, savvy?"

"Yes," I whispered, still in front of him, hardly being able to hold back my overwhelming delight, tears of joy flooding my eyes.

"Good, now that we have all that settled, I need more rum." He said, walking around me in the direction of the bar once more. I laughed and followed, for I was also badly in need of a beverage.


	5. Welcome Aboard!

CHAPTER FIVE

When we entered the bar, we sat down at the table and ordered another round of rum, my treat.

"Where did you get that?" Jack said, gesturing toward the bag of money I had stolen earlier that evening.

"I stole it." I stated simply, knowing he would ask from whom.

"And who, may I ask, did you steal _twenty_ shillings from?"

"A man I met here earlier."

"And why did you steal twenty shillings from a man you met?" Jack was clearly confused.

"Because he offered me a drink."

"Well, bloody hell, take it, love! You must be daft!"

"No no, I did, but you don't understand, he thought I was a whore. So I threatened him with my pistol-"

"Which has no shots," Annaclara interjected.

"Which has no shots, yes, and when he ran away from me, I took the money he left and it is now mine, not very much, I must say, but gold is gold."

We all talked and laughed and got moderately drunk (except for Jack, of course, who was nearly falling out of his seat with sheer drunkenness), then we bid our goodnights and Jack left, accompanied by Annamaria and Mr. Gibbs. When Annaclara and I returned to our little flat, I told her all about what had taken place and what was to take place the following morning.

"So you are going to go live aboard Jack's ship and sail the seas as a pirate?"

"Yes, that is how it seems," I said.

"Well that's amazing!" Annaclara shouted.

"Yes, it is..." I said dreamily, already thinking about my first commandeering of a ship and my first raid with my father. Then what she had said hit me like a ton of brick, "What do you mean, 'that's amazing'?" I asked, slightly hurt that she was happy to see me go.

"No," Annaclara said soothingly, detecting the hurt feelings in my voice, "It's amazing because I am going as well!"

"You what?" I said, completely taken off guard by what she had just said.

"I wasn't going to tell you until tonight, but Annamaria asked me last night while you and Jack were gone.

"So... we're going together, then," I said, still somewhat dumbfounded.

"That's fantastic!" Annaclara said. After we had comprehended all of this, we went to sleep, both most likely to dream of the following morning.

I awoke, still a bit dreamy, and rushed to get the bag I had packed the previous evening. Annaclara was already waiting for me by the door of the bar and we set off together. When we arrived at the beach, Jack and Annamaria were already waiting for us. When we approached them, something seemed rather odd. They weren't smiling; they were just standing there. When I reached Jack, I asked what was wrong. He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and shot Annaclara. Everything was hazy; I could feel myself falling ...

I woke up on the floor with a start. Thank God it had only been a dream. Annaclara was standing by my side.

"You took a bit of a fall, didn't you?" She asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"Shut up." I said, "Hurry up and pack. It's time to go. We have to get there by sunrise or they'll leave without us."

Annaclara just stood there. "GO!" I shouted.

"I have everything I need, you?"

"I packed last night," I told her matter-of-factly, suddenly remembering my dream.

"Well then, I guess we're off." She replied. And we were.

When we arrived at the beach it was empty. _At least a pirate doesn't have to be at all punctual _I thought to myself. We sat down on the sand and waited.

And waited.

And after about three or so hours, two specks appeared in the distance.

"Annaclara," I shouted, awakening Annaclara, "look! There by the horizon!"

"All I see is a couple of.... PEOPLE!" She screamed, "Rose it's people! They're finally here- what should we say? What does a pirate say to a fellow pirate? Ahoy? Hello? No, that sounds too formal, what about Yo Ho? Or maybe..."

"Annaclara," I interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Shut up. They're nearly here. Why don't we just let them say something first, then we'll answer accordingly. Yes?"

"Yes. Good." She said affirmatively. By that time they were no more than three or four meters off and we stood ready to greet them. Only, as we stood there, we exchanged glances and each of us knew what was going through the other's head. These two were not Annie and Jack. They were two big, dirty, smelly men. With another quick glance I could also see that Annaclara was as confused as I was about this.

"Erm, excuse me, but... who are you?" I asked when they had come closer.

"We're 'ere to take ye to the Captain," the shorter, burly one said, "Ye must be Rose," he said looking me up and down, "and ye," he said looking at Annaclara, "Are Annaclara?"

"Yes, I am, actually... But... How did you know which was which?"

The taller, more slender one answered this time, "You," he said looking at me, "are a spittin' image of Captain Sparrow." I really didn't know whether to take that as a flattering remark or not, but providing _both_ Annaclara _and_ Annamaria were discreetly swooning about my father, I assumed it was a good thing to look like him.

And after a brief moment we left. Toward my father's ship, the ship I would live on from now hopefully until the end of my days. Just me, my father, and the sea.


	6. Welcome Aboard!

CHAPTER SIX

When I stepped on to the ship I was amazed. The entire deck was absolutely fierce with life! I had never seen so many people under the command of _one_ man. My father was the captain of the single most amazing crew and ship I had ever seen. Suddenly, I noticed something I had not noticed before... The ship had black sails!! They only added to the ferocious and rugged pirate-legend that was Jack Sparrow... My father. The pirate. For the first time in nearly twelve years I felt at home.

"Ah, Rose!" I suddenly heard from behind me. I whirled around to see who's words those were. My father swayed toward me in a drunken, and albeit, somewhat feminine way. When he reached me he bent down to me and began to speak again, I could smell the rum on his breath. "How was the walk, love? Did ol' Murtogg an' Mullroy treat you well?"

"Yes, father, they treated me fine." I responded, somewhat distracted by both the smell of the sea and the desire to escape from the smell of his breath. "Now, where am I to stay, Captain?"

He took a breath as if to say something, but he just stood there with the usual confused expression on his face.

"Father?" I said after about five minutes, "Do you have anywhere for me to stay?"

"Well, to be perfectly frank with ye, no, I don'." He said regretfully.

"Alright, then," I remarked with an air of annoyance building in my voice, (I detest unprepared ness.) "What am I going to do for the voyage, eh?"

He seemed to be thinking, so I said no more. I decided this was the opportune moment for studying my father. His eyes were brown, a deep, deep brown almost mistakable for black. They were lined in kohl, which only added to the mysterious flow of his facial features. I found it mildly comical that whenever he was thinking about anything for a long period of time his mouth opened ever so slightly, though his jaws were tightly clenched, therefore bearing his teeth in a strangely animal way. I wondered if he meant it to be that way. His hair was brown, nearly black, all in dreadlocks and kept away from his face with a scrap of deep red cloth. Though some of his hair was still hanging loose from the cloth and dangling helplessly in his face. He didn't seem to mind. Entwined and looped into his messy hair were beads of assorted size, shape, and colour and a few other odds and ends, and... Was that a stick? A bone, maybe? Whatever it was, I was mesmerized by it until he spoke again, which startled you.

"Alright, love, since me crew is still down in Tortuga, the only people who know yer a lass, SO, you'll make yerself look like a lad, savvy?" This suggestion both shocked and disgusted me. Sleeping in the same room with old, disgusting, dirty, perverted men? I thought not.

"And how, pray tell, do you expect me to do that?" I asked in a plainly annoyed and disgusted tone.

"Well, you cut your hair, you wear men's clothes, you...erm... well, you do what you do. You'll be fine. I'll put ye in Annamaria's charge, she'll make you a man."

I felt sick at the thought of being a man for the rest of my life, or at least until I could learn better dirty fighting skills...

"Alright, fine, I'll do that. For how long?"

"Until I teach you to use that cutlass properly and you learn how to sleep light with a knife by you at all times, then you can sleep under the stars, in me firs' mate's quarters, or wherever you like. Savvy?"

"Meh... Er, it's savvy with me."

"Good, then I'll get the other ladies and you'll be off. ANNAMARIA!"

A head peeked over the deck to see who had jut yelled. Strangely, though, it was neither Annamaria's nor Annaclara's. It was a man's. Not dirty and disgusting like the other pirates, but clean, and somewhat attractive, or so it seemed from the distance you were standing at.

"Father, who is that?" you inquired, pointing in the strange man's direction.

"Ah," your father said, as if knowing exactly what was going through your head, "That would be Chaman,"

"Is he part of your crew, then?"

"No, picked 'im up while we were on the southern coast of India," he said blankly, "Chaman! Come 'ere, lad!"

The young boy obeyed and scampered toward where I was standing with my father.

"Hello, Chaman, My name is Rose," You say calmly, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Erm, love, Chaman learned to greet in a different way..." My father said rather earnestly, with a slight snigger in his tone.


	7. Memories

CHAPTER SEVEN

The door creaked slightly as I opened it and stepped into the captain's quarters. This would be my new room for the remainder of my journey on this ship. It was a small room, but larger than any other room I had seen so far. It consisted of a rather mid-sized bed, which could be seen right as I stepped into the room, a door directly at the foot of the bed, which I presumed to be the bathroom, a desk and a chair on the left with a small window above it, an inkbottle, a quill, and loads of paper set on it. The desk had six drawers, three on either side, all of them fairly sized. I would look at their inhabitants later. On the right was a small closet with a room divider in a corner next to it, probably for one to change if someone else were in the room with them.

I decided that now would be a good time to bathe, since I had not bathed in nearly four days. I went into the bathroom, looked around, and smiled with satisfaction. I was completely lined with white tiles, which were, surprisingly, not stained in the least. The bath and the towels were the only things that were not white. Two tan-ish green towels were draped carelessly over the sink, which had a mid sized mirror hanging over it and was right next to the bath. The bath was a striking thing to behold. Unlike everything else in the bathroom, it was completely covered in grime, stains, and other filth. I suddenly felt somewhat ill at the thought of bathing in that. I wondered how my father could. I concluded to ask him right then. Upon making that decision, I turned on my heels and walked briskly out of the bathroom.

When I found my father, I tapped him on the shoulder and asked right away, "Father,"

"Yes, love?"

"Why is the bath filled with disgusting filth?"

"Well, love, I never bathe there." He said plainly. This response shocked and appalled me.

"Where is it that ye do bathe, then?" I asked warily.

"In the sea," he replied as though it were granted.

"In the sea... In the sea..?" I decided that no father of mine would bathe in the ocean alone, that was just unseemliness, and though cleanliness is not a pirate's priority, he could not die from some disease of filth that resided on his body, "Father, you need to come with me."

I led him to his quarters and showed him the mess his bath was in.

"Bloody 'ell, love, what did ye do?!?"

"I did nothing, YOU never clean this bathtub!" With that I found a rag and soap and handed them to him, then bid him farewell for the time being and warned him that until this tub was spotless, not only would he not leave this room, but he would not eat either, and since I was helping to cook on the ship, I knew very well that with a little persuasion of the head cook, I could keep to this threat easily.

"Wait a minute!" he cried confusedly, "No woman will command me! I'm Jack Sparrow, greatest pirate ever to sail the seas!"

"Ahhh, but I am no ordinary woman..." I said slyly. He looked at me with that same confused and drunk face, "I am Rose Sparrow, _daughter_ of the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas... And I want to take a bloody bath!" and with that, I turned around and marched out of the room, leaving him to finish the job I knew he would finish. He was a softhearted man for his little girl, and I liked that very much.

Three hours later

I stepped warily into the bathroom to see how my father was coming along and to see if he had Chaman helping him, for I could not seem to find him anywhere else on the ship. I knocked on the bathroom door, walked in, and "AAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

"AAAHHHHHHHH!!!" I spun around, running into the door, and with a throbbing head, ran out of the Captain's quarters and out onto the deck and didn't stop until I reached the helm. I stood there panting and trying to forget what I had just seen. While I was still in shock, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I gasped and whipped around. My father stood before me with a smile creeping up his face. He swallowed a snigger and cleared his throat.

"Ahem. So, lass, what is the screaming I heard coming from me quarters?" he asked as if he already didn't know.

"Chaman... You finished and didn't tell me, and Chaman, he... and I... You...!" I hit his arm somewhat playfully, but still a bit disturbed that he didn't find the time to tell me that he had finished the bath and Chaman had decided to bathe, both of them well aware that I could walk in at any given moment. Just then, Chaman strolled out of the Captain's quarters as though nothing had happened, as though he was completely unfazed... How this could be I had no idea.

"Chaman, I hear me daughter walked in on ye bathin'," My father called jokingly.

"That she did, captain, that she did."

"Yes, I did, and I see no humor in this at all! Do you realize I have just seen you... seen you in the... in the.... in the bath tub!! Never have I seen a man in such a state in my entire life! I never intended to either! Thank you, father, for WARNING ME!!!"

"Oh, come now, girl," Chaman said, a grin creeping up his face, "Are you meaning to tell me that ye never wanted te see me without me clothes? Never?"

"NEVER!" I shouted, offended that he would think of me that way; that Chaman would think of me as nothing but his little slut. With that, I slapped him hard across the face and stormed into the captain's quarters and slammed the door, not caring for his or my father's response.

I sat on the bed and untied my long braid, letting my dark brown hair fall to my waist. I then shuffled into the bathroom and drained Chaman's old bathwater and filled a bath of my own. I washed my hair, brushed and braided it again, and proceeded to wash my entire body. It felt good to be clean again, and I felt so serene in the hot soapy water, so I just sank into the bubbles until nothing but my head and shoulders were showing and my feet were on the edge on the other side of the tub. It was there that I fell asleep, lost in my own thoughts.

I woke up and gasped, the water was freezing. I wondered how long I had been asleep and how I had not drowned. I reached for a towel and got up, wrapped it around myself, and walked silently into the bedroom. I locked the door, dropped the towel, and walked on my toes over to the bed, as not to make a sound. Before I got into te bed, I noticed that it was unmade. I reached out my hand to pull the covers off the bed and arrange them properly when something underneath them shifted. I gasped audibly and whoever it was woke up with a start. The intruder pulled the covers from their face and it was... him I could recognize those purple eyes anywhere. I tried to scream, but no sound would pass my lips. I tried again, and by that time he had gotten up and was standing right in front of me. He put his hand over my noiseless mouth and threw me on the bed. My head hit the wall and I cried out in pain. He shook me to silence me. I screamed and screamed and bit him. I tasted the blood in my mouth. It was cold. I screamed one final time and he shook me again.

"Rose! Rose, wake up, wake up, lass!" my father was shaking me and I woke with a start. It had been a dream. It had only been a dream. Indeed he hadn't found me. He most likely never would. I buried my face in my father's shoulder, unfazed by my nudity, and cried.

"Rose, it's alright, darling, it's alright." He soothed and picked me up out of the icy water, careful not to look at the rest of me, and wrapped me up in a towel. He carefully carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed. I was still crying, so he sat next to me and wiped the tears from my face with his thumbs. He hugged me and I clutched him around the waist, crying, tremors shooting through me every so often. After about half an hour, I had calmed down and he broke the embrace and looked at me.

"Wha' was that, love?" he asked, "I thought is had only been a bad dream, but it appears to be more than that."

"No, no, it's nothing, just a dream, father, that's all," I assured him, not wanting to tell him the awful truth.

"If yer sure," he said.

"I'm sure," I re-assured him. With that he got up and began to make his ay toward the door, "Father?" I called.

"Yes, pet?"

"Please, don't let me be alone." He looked at me with a confused expression, but complied. He sat down on the bed and I lay down.

Jack's POV

She lay on the pillow I had stolen especially for her. I made sure she had the best. I had known all along she would be sleeping here. Her eyes fluttered as though she was trying to fight sleep. A battle not even the greatest can win. She slowly drifted off, but when I got up she bid me come back, so I did, and I sat with her until sunrise, after she had long since fallen asleep again. I had just been watching her sleep, her hair so much resembling mine in colour, her little face on the soft pillow, her full, pouty, rosy little lips barely parted as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, her little hand still tightly clutching mine. I carefully took my hand and got up to leave, but before I shut the door, I looked back at her. This was my little girl and I knew nothing could ever keep me from her again. Ever.

End Jack's POV


	8. Real Love From A Father

Um, yes, to the one and only person who has given me a reiew, Thank you. And about your comment that Jack had probably impregnated many others, Rose was the only one he knew about. Remember? Or maybe you dont know that, well, you do now!! ;)

Also, he will find out a few other dark family secrets later on. hehe.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When the light came in and shone directly on y face, I awoke peacefully and sat up. I stretched my arms above my head and sighed. From the bed I could see the window and it looked like a beautiful morning. I pulled the covers slowly off myself and stretched again, letting all of my muscles regain their blood flow. I then stood up and walked into the bathroom. The mirror was still somewhat fogged from the previous night, as my father had shut the bathroom door after carrying me to my bed. I remembered the previous night with a pang of sorrow. What I had dreamt had seemed so real. I felt my head hit the wall, but I concluded that it must have just been me hitting my head on the bathtub. I cleaned the mirror with the other towel, the one that was not on the floor. I then went back to my bed, picked up the towel, and hung it on the bathroom door. I then went to my bag and saw that there was nothing in it. No clothes even. My father had taken everything out and put it in its place already. He was such a good father. Which was interesting, because he had really never been a father until two days ago. This was only his third day being a father, and he was really very good at it already.

I walked over to the closet, which, to my surprise was quite roomy. My clothes were all pushed to the left side, except for one item, which I did not recognize. All I could make of it from the way it was hanging was that it was the most beautiful color of deep midnight blue that I had ever seen. It looked rather large, and it reached from the hanger, which was at my shoulder length, all the way to the floor. When I saw this, I knew for certain that it had not belonged to me. I took it out of the closet, laid it on the table that had been placed in the center of the room, and looked at it. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was a deep, midnight blue, with white and silver lining. It reminded me of the night sky. I studied the intricate stitch-work and wondered how anyone here could have acquired such an exquisite dress. Then it dawned on me: his was a ship _full of pirates._ How could I have forgotten? Then I spied a letter pinned to the dress with a beautiful hair comb attached to it. The comb was encrusted with deep blue gems and white, pure gems in it. It matched the dress perfectly. I put the comb down and read the letter.

"_My dearest daughter,_

_This dress has been made especially for you. I did not steal it, for it was to be special. Though the money I had paid with was not originally mine, but the dress is yours and was never anyone else's. I love you with all of my black heart and I want you to know that you are welcome on the Pearl until you choose to leave. The comb was made especially to match the dress, with sea emerald and diamonds encrusted in it. If yo go to the desk and look in the top drawer you will find a necklace and a pair of earrings. These are made of pearl I myself found in the sea. None of this gift is stolen. It is all made just for you, my little flower. There will be a celebration on the ship tonight, and I would much appreciate it if you would wear the dress and all that goes with it to attend."_

I was a bit confused by this, as I had assumed I was supposed to be a man, but I resolved to ask later and kept reading.

"T_he party is to celebrate the coming of two new crewmembers. We will celebrate promptly at 7:00; however, I hope to see you before then. Today you will meet the crew. You will be sleepin' in my quarters for the remainder of the journey, so you don't need to worry about being a lad, that plan is spoiled, thanks to Chaman and his mouth. Anyway, get ready and I will see you when you come out on deck._

_See you soon,_

_Captain Jack Sparrow._

_Father."_

I hung the dress back in the closet with a smile on my face, a smile bigger than I had ever smiled. I knew he really, really cared...

I went into the bathroom and bathed, washing and drying my hair, then, out of sheer randomness, I decided to brush my hair. When it was all brushed, I looked in the mirror. I looked so... feminine. I actually liked it. After I was all dry, I made my way over to the closet with an air of contentment. I opened the door lazily and peered at all of my clothes. I decided upon a pair of black pants, leather knee-high boots, an off-white shirt, a dark brown leather vest (which was actually made for a small man, but fit well), and a deep, deep red-brown piece of cloth to keep my hair back. I got dressed and fixed my outfit and tweaked random parts of it until I was satisfied with my newfound femininity, and stepped out onto the deck.

"'Ello, love," I turned around to see my father looking at my outfit with a small smirk on his dark face, "do ye insist on looking that nice even just to learn to fight?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." I said, mocking his mockery of my feminine side finally showing through.

"Alright then," he said, "shall we begin?"

"Yes," I replied, confident in the swordsman skills I had acquired thus far in life as a woman of Tortuga.

"Good," he said plainly. And with that, he picked up his sword, I drew my sword, and my learning began.


	9. My Teaching Begins

Within seconds, he lunged at me, causing me to step back instinctively; mentally slap myself for not parrying the attack. I then tried t attack him, and he defended every blow I attempted with ease. He then stepped back one very small step and swiped the blade a mere centimeter from my face the blade stopped, barely touching my face. I gasped.

"You certainly do know how to use that, don't you?" I asked, still shaking.

"As will you." My father smiled down at me. "Now, I 'ave some work to do around me ship, so ye'll be fighting with Chaman."

I froze. Was he serious? "Father," I hardly choked out, "You aren't serious, are you?"

"Of course, love, who better to teach you to fight than the person you'd like to kill the most?"

He had a point. Damn, I hated that. Oh well, I was rather satisfied; I got to fight, and possibly even hurt Chaman. Life was looking toward heaven now. With that, I strode off to my room. I had o prepare myself for a moment like this.

A/N:

Sorry about the really, really short chappie, the next chappie will be a vote, so vote, ok? It'll give me an easier time updating, because I am suffering from indecision at the moment, really badly.

SO VOTE!! Hehe. :P


	10. VOTE

Okay, mates!! Here's the deal: I can't decide whether to have Rose fight Chaman and kill him because of something horrible he does within the next chapter, or to have him be thrown off the ship because of said horrible thing. SO, I would like your opinion!! Please vote and I will check back in three days. PLEASE VOTE!!

So,

Choice one: Kill Chaman off.

Choice two: Kick him off and add a new sailor to the story, possible love interest, possible long lost friend, maybe brother long lost, and MAYBE even a woman. You never know.

VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE!!!

P.S.

terradaina, I feel so hapy that someone likes this story... Thanks... so, I know you'll vote, which is good! THANX!


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